


9 to 5

by josuta



Category: Initial D
Genre: Gen, M/M, Various OCs in the form of coworkers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-17
Updated: 2019-06-17
Packaged: 2020-05-13 10:10:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19249063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/josuta/pseuds/josuta
Summary: What a way to make a livin'.A peek into the daily life of our illustrious R32 driver.





	9 to 5

**6:10 AM. Beepbeep. Beepbeep. Beepbeep.**

 

There goes that infernal mechanical screaming again. The telltale sounds of a new day starting. Takeshi groans. Another day, huh? The man rolls over from his side of the futon, smacking the alarm clock with enough force to make it bounce from impact. The poor thing. The abuse only gets worse each snooze he presses.

 

**6:15 AM. Beepbeep. Beepbeep. Beepbeep.**

 

Fine,  _fine!_  He’ll get up! Just stop beeping! Sitting up and rubbing his head, Takeshi blinks his bleary eyes, trying to focus on the hazy red numbers of his clock. Bah...

 

Shuffling carefully out of the covers, with a great yawn, the man stumbles out of the bedroom into the small hallway. Adjacent, into the kitchen. He doesn’t bother with lights, his eyes aren’t focused enough to warrant it. He knows his apartment anyway. Coffee maker turned on, Takeshi leans back on the counter, yawning again, and stretching his arms above his head to crack the stiff joints in his spine.

 

Coffee would take a couple minutes to brew, so a shower is next on the list. But not after he sets out his coffee mug. The Sanrio themed one, it just made him smile.

 

**6:24 AM. Shower time.**

 

He doesn’t waste any time, just a quick rinse of whatever activities got him so sweaty last night, and a shampoo, and he’s out.

 

**6:27 AM. Might as well shave while he’s in the bathroom.**

 

The five o’clock shadow isn’t a good look on him. Or at least he thinks. He takes his time on this one, last time he rushed a shave he ended up with three nicks on his chin, coming into work with tissue pieces to hold the bleeding. Ridiculous. Honestly.

 

His eyes locked on the conspicuous bruise left on his neck, probably from last night’s activities. That asshole. Nakazato said he had to work in the morning, no marks. Yet, here he was, staring a hickey down in the mirror. His fingers brushed over it idly, running up to rub at the space behind his ear.

 

Bastard...

 

It was no use fussing over it, though, his shirt collar would most likely cover it. With his face cleanly shaven, he slaps on some aftershave, pats his face down, fixes his towel around his waist, and heads back to the kitchen for some coffee.

 

The hum of the kitchen appliances was a quiet ambiance, only the birds outside offering a break from it. The cars had yet to pick up on the streets. It was one of Takeshi’s favourite times of day, if he was admitting it. Dawn, and dusk, highly atypical of the white collar type. Hah, as if he was anything close to white collar.

 

He sips his coffee out of his My Melody branded mug, eyes glancing to the clock idly ticking on the wall.

 

**7:00 AM. Well, that’s enough musing for now.**

 

Coffee mug in hand, the man returns to his bedroom. He makes quick work, over to the closet, picking out his suit and tie for the day. The typical, white button up, navy blue tie, and a subtle Keroppi tie pin. He’d purchased that after he crashed his old Nissan, as a little pick me up. The frog’s sweet little face was worth every penny.

 

Carefully stepping over the still sleeping body on the futon, Takeshi carries his outfit to the bathroom to change. My Melody is set on the counter.

 

**7:13 AM. Suit, on. Tie, tied. Hair… a mess.**

 

Yeesh. Bed head really was a curse that hit him hard, huh?

 

His black hair was flying every possible direction, cowlicks and tufts galore. Nothing a little hair gel can’t fix! With his hands free, the slickening begins. He has a look, he has to upkeep. Middle part, slicked to the sides, his baby hairs and chopped short bangs falling loose above his forehead.

 

Perfect.

 

My Melody once again in hand, the fully dressed man exits the bathroom with a few minutes to spare. Normally, he would prepare some breakfast, toast or the like. But it was the third week into the month, and payday wasn’t for another week. Lovely.

 

**7:32 AM. Fridge raid.**

 

Not much to report back, unfortunately. Even the usually well stocked supply of beer was running dangerously low. He’d have to figure something out for dinner later today. But that’s filed away for future Takeshi to worry about.

 

Fridge closed, coffee nearly finished, Takeshi stretched once more, not bothering to wake the roommate still asleep in the bedroom. They didn’t work today, he would be nice. Let them get their sleep.

 

**7:45 AM. … Shit. Where was that paperwork he needed?**

 

The backlog he’d offered to work on at home, where did he put it? Oh, shit. Shit shit shit.

 

My Melody is placed delicately down in the kitchen sink, before his long legs carried him to the living room in a few strides. Did he forget it on the kotatsu? Under the kotatsu? No, it wasn’t there. He’d been working on sorting through it, beers had been opened, shit! Back to the bedroom.

 

**7:52 AM. The attempt to search without waking the sleeping figure.**

 

Grrr, where the hell was it?! He was getting irritated now! He had it last night, how could he just misplace it?! He was about to silently rip apart this entire bedroom if he had to.

 

Wild eyes grazed the room one last time, before spotting a sliver of white from underneath the futon. Underneath the sleeping roommate. Of course. Did the bastard hide it under there or something? Ugh. Irritable, Takeshi scooted them away with his foot, and snatched the papers from their hiding spot.

 

Unbelievable. He chanced a glance to the clock again.

 

**8:23. SHIT. OH SHIT.**

 

No time to apologize for waking up the roommate, he had to run. The drive to work was usually a half an hour, give or take a few for traffic. He absolutely hated showing up to work on time. He was always early, not on time. He can’t just be  _on time_!

 

Takeshi nearly trips over the legs as he stuffs the papers into his briefcase, shouting an apology as he grabbed the set of keys on the counter. Time to go!

 

Hurrying down the flight of stairs, out to the parking lot, Takeshi shifted his briefcase under his arm to bring the keys to the car door. Insert, tur— turn?

 

He jiggled the keys. Turn? Hello?

 

With a glance down at the keys in question, he groaned aloud at the realization that these were not Nissan keys.

 

They were Honda.

 

_God damn it._

 

**8:32 AM. Keys removed. Flights climbed. Door rather aggressively opened, and keys swapped.**

 

“Stop putting your keys in my spot, asshole!” Takeshi yelled, getting an annoyed yell back from the sleepy Honda driver, before hurrying back down the flights for the second time. Jesus, they had key hooks for a reason, even if neither of them actually used them.

 

Finally returning to the Nissan, unlocking it with the proper keys, Takeshi tossed his briefcase onto the passenger seat and sat down, starting up the R32 with a rev. The tachometer piqued up in happiness, and Takeshi finally pulled out of his parking spot, speeding away down the small road off to his destination. Ugh.  _Work._

 

**8:56 AM. The rest of the drive was generally uneventful.**

 

**9:01 AM. Work begins.**

 

After the elevator up to the 8th floor of the building, Takeshi makes it just on time, filing into the office alongside the rest of his punctual peers. It starts with the boss greeting all the employees, giving an unenthused “ganbare!” and sent everyone to work. Takeshi smiles and waves to his coworkers, Mari waving sweetly back to him. She had baked cookies for the office today, Takeshi might just bring some home for a snack.

 

**9:15 AM. Documenting.**

 

Takeshi is good at his work, he keeps his head down and does what he’s told. Shingo tends to call him a doormat because of it, but it’s better than getting fired and working convenience store graveyard shifts. Asshole.

 

It’s all numbers. Takeshi works in the accounting department of a used car sales firm, lucky for him. He’s always been smart with numbers, logical thinking isn’t so hard when it’s not racing. He cracks his knuckles from typing on his keyboard.

 

**9:32 AM. Thirsty...**

 

A trip to the vending machine. Mari approaches.

 

“Good morning, Nakazato-kun!” She chirps, smiling up at the tall man.

 

“Good morning, Mari-chan. Chipper as always, hm?” Takeshi offers a smile back, pressing the button on the machine for a cold can of coffee. Mari giggles, and leans slightly to peek at the machine. “Do you want a drink?” He asks.

 

Mari looks back up at him, and shakes her head.

 

“Ah! No no, please, don’t worry about me! I’m just seeing what you got!”

 

“Coffee.” Takeshi replied blankly, bending to retrieve said beverage.

 

“Do you drink a lot of coffee, Nakazato-kun?”

 

He shrugs.

 

“Enough to get through the day.” Mari takes that as the conversation end, and lets him head back to his desk. He works through the next few hours uninterrupted. Getting quite a few assignments done, he’s pretty proud of his progress. His day started out a little chaotic, but it’s going by fast!

 

**11:02 AM. Break time. Stand, stretch, cafeteria.**

 

There was quite a number of employees at his firm, all scattered around different departments. Sales and accounting were nestled close, and while Takeshi was generally friendly with most of them, he and the man named Yamada seemed to have an odd clash.

 

Yamada started it, Takeshi would tell you.

 

Yamada did not start it.

 

**11:05 AM. Eyes lock.** **_Yamada_ ** **.**

 

“Nissan.”

 

“Hyundai.”

 

Such venom.

 

**11:07 AM. Sanctuary found, seat taken.**

 

He didn’t mind sitting alone at breaks, in fact he cherished it. In a busy office with lots of people, and a home shared with a roommate, any moment to himself he relished. Takeshi tilted his head back, interlocking his fingers and setting them on his chest to rest for a moment. Eyes closed.

 

It did not last long.

 

“Taaakeshiiii!” His dark eyes opened again.

 

Sigh.

 

“Yamada! You have a break now too?” Takeshi gritted, obviously attempting to put up a front as to not start anything with Yamada, or the coworkers he kept in tow. Just tolerate him now, Takeshi, you’ll be back to your break soon.

 

“Yeah! Figured we could come sit with ya, you looked lonely.”

 

_Fuuuuuck_.

 

**11:17 AM. Break time is over. Yamada and company did not fuck off.**

 

“I ought to head back, Yamada.” Takeshi announced, rising from his seat a little too abruptly, cutting off Yamada’s nonsense story about some broad he’d met in the bar last night. Takeshi really could not care less. Even work was better than listening to this shit. Honestly, he had tuned most of it out, pretending he was listening.

 

“Aww, break time over so soon?” Yamada jeered, obviously noticing how annoyed he’d gotten Takeshi.

 

Heh. Just wait, Nissan, they still had lunch and last break as well.

 

Takeshi offered a curt smile and wave to the group, before straightening his tie and pin, heading back to the office. So much for a peaceful break, huh. Oh well. With one more stop at the vending machine, Takeshi punches in another coffee.

 

“Ehhh, another coffee, Nakazato-kun?”

 

Mari peeked her head around Takeshi’s large frame, her short brown bob swaying at the angle she held herself. She was a welcome company after the gongshow that was Yamada.

 

“I just got off break with Yamada, and we don’t allow anything stronger at work, so, coffee will do.” Mari giggled, even if the joke wasn’t that funny. Takeshi smiled and raised an eyebrow.

 

“Yamada-kun can be a little much sometimes, I understand.” She nods. “Maybe, ah, you would want to go get that drink with me and some girls after work, though?” Mari smiled up at the man, who had now raised both eyebrows.

 

“Mm? Drinks?”

 

Mari nods again, enthusiastically.

 

“Ah, I’m sorry, Mari-chan. I’ve got other plans tonight.” ‘I have a race lined up at Myogi valley’ obviously being left unsaid. Mari wilted a little. “Maybe tomorrow, though? I’m free tomorrow night.”

 

“O-okay! Tomorrow then! Don’t flake on us, okay, Naka-kun?” Takeshi scratched the back of his head and nodded back. Jeez. With that, Mari smiled gleefully, and skipped back to her desk. The man really didn’t know how he got offers from her all the time, it was odd. Did she have an interest in him, or something? Office life is so stressful.

 

Finally returning to his desk, Takeshi cracks open his second can of coffee, as well as his knuckles, and puts his head down into his work. He just has to make it to lunch time.

 

**11:46 AM. Progress in work, can is finished.**

 

Takeshi takes a stretch, leaning back in his swivel chair. A glance around the office reveals mostly everyone busy away at work, with the few exceptions of the secretary chatting with one of the directors, and Takeshi’s supervisor catching what seemed to be a nap at his desk. Hmph.

 

**12:21 PM. Nearly there. Stomach rumbles.**

 

It’s around this time that Takeshi remembers he did not have any breakfast. He’d spend the last forty-five minutes he would’ve used to get breakfast at the gas station searching for those damned papers. Shingo probably hid them on purpose.

 

Ah, shit, he still had to figure out dinner for tonight, too. His wallet was pretty thin, they might have to live off take out for the last couple days.

 

Not like they weren’t used to that, though. He could dream about that steak dinner all he wanted.

 

**12:57 PM. Lunch time, finally!**

 

The office bustled with noise at the employees all raising from their desks, stretching, popping their joints, and beginning to chat as the boss dismissed everyone for lunch. Takeshi hadn’t had time to pack a lunch today, so with a quick grab of his jacket draped over the back of his chair, he set off for the elevators. There were a couple cheap cafes around the office, he figured he’ll just pop over to one and buy a sandwich. Something heavy, filling, since he hadn’t had breakfast.

 

The elevator filled, Takeshi stepping back to lean against the wall of it as his coworkers squished their way in. His six foot frame easily standing over the majority of them, and his large frame in general occupying a little more room than he was comfortable with taking.

 

Thankfully it’s a short ride down.

 

**1:00 PM. Ding. Seventh floor.**

 

… It’s a short ride down, right?

 

A few more people piled into the elevator, all wanting to leave the damn building at the same time. What the hell, normally it wasn’t this busy at lunch, what’s the deal?

 

Ding. Sixth floor. More employees. Takeshi was now squished between the wall and another male employee, who he offered an apologetic, slightly sweaty smile to. This was awkward.

 

Thankfully, the elevator skipped the fifth, and fourth floors, and only picked up a few more on the way down to the main floor. As everyone filed out, Takeshi waited behind to catch his breath he didn’t realize he was holding the entire time. Guh. He checks his watch.

 

**1:05 PM. The doors are breached, off to the cafe.**

 

It wasn’t a long walk, he could make it over there in three minutes if he strode. Long legs help to get places a bit faster. The streets bustled, and it seemed like everyone was out on their lunch break. He will just grab his sandwich and go, he’d rather eat it in the office’s lunch room, instead of at the cafe itself.

 

Once inside, Takeshi takes his place in line, digging out his wallet from his po-

 

…

 

_Oh, god damn it._

 

The woman ahead of him in line turned to look at him, and he covers his mouth in the realization he had swore out loud.

 

“S-sorry.” Well shit. How the hell is he gonna get lunch now? He only had change, he had no bills for food! He’d been using it all day for the coffee, how did he not fucking realize?! He growled under his breath, and tapped his foot in irritation.

 

Digging out what change he had, he counted the sum, and looked back up to the menu boards. He had about ¥400, which was probably enough for just a small sandwich, and no drink. Well. Fuck. At least it was something. The change is dropped into his pocket.

 

Arms now crossed, he waits for his turn in line.

 

**1:13 PM. One small ham and cheese sandwich please.**

 

Defeated, and with a pathetic little sandwich in hand, Takeshi returns to the office with fifteen minutes left to eat said sandwich.

 

God.

 

Damn.

 

It.

 

**1:18 PM. Back up to the office.**

 

Please don’t run into Yamada. Please don’t run into Yamada. Please don’t run into-

 

“Takeshiiiii!”

 

_GOD. DAMN. IT._

 

“Yamada.” The greeting is strained and irritated. Very obviously not in the mood. Yamada took it as an invitation.

 

“Hey, got a little sandwich? Looks yummy. Is it from that little cafe down the street? I’ve been meaning to check that place out. Seems pretty cute! Is it cute, Takeshi?”

 

Holy shit, how can one man talk so much, and how can one man’s voice sound like nails on a chalkboard. Even Shingo didn’t irritate him this much. He humors the man, however, sitting down at his table from earlier as the Hyundai driver invited himself down as well.

 

He would eat his sandwich, go back to work, just get his documents finished, and go home.

 

That’s right… He’s almost there.

 

The ham and cheese were soggy.

 

**1:34 PM. The middle ground.**

 

This was the stretch between lunch and final break. It always seemed to go by the slowest to Takeshi. The minutes crawled by, papers seemed to never end, and the chunky computers the office was outfitted with froze every so often. He’d once lost an entire document to a freeze, and crash, without saving.

 

He pressed that save button feverishly, ever since then.

 

His mouth was dry, but he used the rest of his change for that fucking sandwich.

 

**2:12 PM. The sound of the fan is drilling a hole into his head.**

 

It’s so annoying. It’s so annoying. Every three seconds the fan turns on it’s little axis, and squeaks as it comes to a stop. Every. Three. Seconds. He’s going to go insane.

 

**3:27 PM. Final break comes and goes too fast.**

 

Not even a chance to sit and appreciate the break. It was all blurring together in a slow, painfully slow, mush of activity. God he hated when his days ended up like this. Cranky, sweaty from the heat, and hungry, Takeshi repeats the mantra of ‘almost there. Hour and a half.’ over and over.

 

**4:41 PM. Supervisor approaches.**

 

“Nakazato, good job on the backlog work you took home last night!” Ah.

 

Takeshi smiled and waved his hand.

 

“It was no problem, sir, I had it done before dinner time.”

 

“So you won’t mind taking some more home tonight, right? I’ve got three here that need sorting and refiling. I’m counting on you, Nakazato!” Before Takeshi could even get a response in, the supervisor had slammed the files onto his desk, and hurried off.

 

His gaze settled on the papers, incredulous.

 

Ah.

 

**5:00 PM. Finally, release from this stuffy hell.**

 

Takeshi collected the papers he’d been assigned, fitting them into his briefcase before buckling it and wedging it under his arm. A sigh, he draped his suit jacket over his shoulder, and collected the cans of coffee to bring to the recycle.

 

Deposited, his eyes catch the sight of the near empty plate of cookies Mari had brought to work. Oh, that’s right, he hadn’t taken his share yet! Something to eat! She’d even set out little boxes for take-home. What an angel, honestly. Shingo would probably end up eating all of them, but it was the thought that counted for Takeshi. He’d thank Mari tomorrow.

 

**5:05 PM. Parking lot. Keys. Door.**

 

Belongings tossed into the back seat, and cookies set delicately in the passenger seat, Takeshi leaned back into the bucket seat of his R32. A sanctuary. A safe little spot after the absolute bullshit that was today. His R32 was a constant, she’d never toss him a curveball and put a wrench in the gears.

 

He started up the car, backing out of the lot, and headed down the street on his car ride home. Knowing rush hour, he wouldn’t get home until around six, but it was better than nothing. The radio flicks on, and Takeshi leans his arm against the door as he waits the traffic out.

 

**5:46 PM. Apartment in sights.**

 

It looked like Shingo was still home, the EG6 parked in the extra visitor parking. He really should stop parking there and get his own space, the management already complained once, it’s only a matter of time before he gets a ticket neither of them could afford to get. Knowing the man, he wouldn’t, though.

 

With the R32 parked, belongings gathered, Takeshi groaned and exited the car, the headache he’d developed in traffic pulsing behind the front of his skull. He was ready for a beer, a shower, and a nap. No lip from his roommate, no arguments, just, rest. Please. That’s all he asked for.

 

**5:51 PM. Stair flights climbed, is that music?**

 

Takeshi juggled the cookies and his keys, walking up to the door and tilting his head as he listened to the music leaking from the shoddy door. Was Shingo listening to music? It was loud, whatever he was doing.

 

The door creaked as he opened it, though the music grew louder without the barrier between him and it. Ugh, can he listen to anything quieter? They’ll get noise complaints. Idiot. Keys are set on the counter, ignoring the hooks once again, and Takeshi placed his belongings beside them. Briefcase, then cookies on top.

 

Shingo wasn’t in the living room, though there was a cord plugged into an outlet that stretched around the corner. In the bedroom? The man wandered over to the doorway, and peeked in, curious as to what the other could be up to.

 

What he was greeted with, was nothing he had expected.

 

Shingo was busying himself cleaning up the bedroom, dressed as he usually was indoors, in his boxers and a black and white Honda hoodie. His hair was pulled up onto the top of his head, tied together in a little topknot, allowing his features to actually be seen, instead of hidden by the fringes of his dark hair.

 

Takeshi smiled, and leaned against the door frame, crossing his arms and watching the man amuse himself by singing along to his music, the vacuum not even turned on at this point. It lasted a few moments before Shingo turned his body to the doorway, and gave a shriek at the sudden figure standing there.

 

“HOLY SHIT!”

 

Takeshi snorted.

 

“Relax! It’s just me! I was just watching you clean.”

 

“Fucking hell, how long have you been there?!” Shingo had to catch his breath.

 

“Like, two minutes, you’re fine, you big baby.” Takeshi shook his head, and walked into the room to approach the man. Shingo scowled at him, and turned away. “Have I seen you with your hair up before?” Shingo shrugged.

 

“I dunno, I don’t put it up often.”

 

“You should. I like it.”

 

“...”

 

Shingo felt the large arms of his ‘roommate’ circle him, and he squirmed a little. Hey, hey, he’s not the little spoon! Takeshi didn’t relent, and just held Shingo close to him.

 

“Today was shit.” The larger man huffed out, threading his fingers together. Shingo wiggled in his grip, to turn and face Takeshi in the embrace. His face level with what would be Takeshi’s collar bones. His hands slid around Takeshi’s belted waist, dipping past the leather strip and settling on the raven-haired man’s rear.

 

“Yeah?” Chin rested on chest.

 

“Yeah.”

 

**6:10 PM. House cleaning had been forgotten about.**

 

In fact, that work Takeshi had been assigned had been forgotten about as well, it seemed.

 

Takeshi was sat on Shingo’s lap, a goofy sight, really, such a large man straddling a smaller one. Shingo didn’t care. He had always liked the imbalance. The look of such a big man curled under his finger. Sure he lead he Night Kids, as much as Shingo tried to usurp him and claim that for himself, but outside of the touge, the Honda driver was calling the shots.

 

Takeshi’s eyes were closed, but he could feel Shingo’s hands wander up his chest, undoing the tie still around his neck, sliding it out from under his collar. From there, they set on his pecs, a place Shingo seemed to enjoy residing.

 

The hands squeezed through his dress shirt, and Shingo honked. He honked.

 

“Y’know, I say this a lot, but you have some nice tits, Takeshi.”

 

The man in question huffed, and swatted his company’s hands.

 

“Quit calling them that.” Shingo had to laugh.

 

“What? That’s what they are. Hell, you probably have a bigger rack than my ex girlfriend.” The hands returned regardless. Takeshi rolled his eyes. He supposes it was a compliment, if a bizarre one. Shingo liked his body, so he wasn’t really about to complain too much.

 

Not when the attention he got was praise, even in an offhand way.

 

**6:41 PM. Any sort of chores that had been in progress, have been discarded, absolutely.**

 

Two sets of limbs tangled together, and hands grasped at hot skin. Clothes had been shed.

 

Takeshi really liked that topknot, it seems.

 

**7:21 PM. The flick of a zippo lighter.**

 

Shingo lit his cigarette, and Takeshi’s after.

 

Takeshi lay on the futon, lower half covered modestly by the covers, still laying on his stomach from their activities. His skin peppered with new marks, much to his dismay, a slight sheen covering his back from the sweat layered on the skin. His hair a mess. He couldn’t complain though, he was warm, a little sore, but his limbs felt like jelly and his body still ringing, coming down from a blissful peak.

 

He took a drag from his cigarette, and Shingo followed suit. The topknot that had kicked off their night was loose on the top of his head, he’d actually put it back in a few times after Takeshi had gripped his hair so hard it came undone.

 

“Did you get dinner?” Shingo asked, blowing out a puff of smoke and looking down at Takeshi.

 

Takeshi grumbled, putting his face in the pillow, hand holding the cigarette up in the air.

 

“I forgot my wallet at home…” Shingo snorts.

 

“So no, then. That’s cool. I went and got some groceries and shit anyway.”

 

“Ah, thanks.”

 

“Sure.”

 

**8:03 PM. Perhaps it’s time for a late dinner.**

 

The two cleaned up, put some clothes back on, and took a look at what Shingo had brought home.

 

It, wasn’t much, that wasn’t surprising. He made even less than Takeshi did. It was mostly snacks, actually, neither of them enjoyed cooking too much.

 

Looks like it was ramen cups and beer for dinner.

 

Takeshi didn’t mind.

 

In fact, as the two of them sat at the kotatsu watching television, Takeshi’s foot brushing against Shingo’s shin, he felt a sense of peace. Compared to how the day had started, it ended up pretty okay. He slurped his ramen down, finishing the broth, which earned him a grimace from Shingo who did not drink his broth.

 

“I’ve got some work to do, supervisor saddled me with more backlogs to process.”

 

“Go ahead, I’ll watch the tube.”

 

Takeshi got up, took the ramen trash, and returned shortly with his briefcase in hand. Shingo raised an eyebrow as he watched the man plop back down ungracefully, giving a little chuckle before turning his attention back to the television.

 

**8:34 PM. Yaaaawwn.**

 

Backlogs suck. This sucks. He only has an hour left before he has to get ready for bed. Ugh. It’s especially hard to focus when Shingo kept his hair in the top knot. Takeshi’s gaze would raise from his work to watch the man’s face, the light from the television illuminating the surprisingly sharp cheekbones, and of course that adorable nose of his.

 

Focus. Work. Gotta get this work done.

 

**9:27 PM. Shingo had brought a beer over, and had begun drinking it.**

 

Takeshi would join, as he had finished his work, but he had bed in just a little bit. Instead, he rises from his spot, stuffing the papers back into the briefcase this time, making sure they’re in there for tomorrow. After securing them, he would head to the bathroom to wash up, and tut his tongue at the hickles left all over his body.

 

Most of them centralized to his neck and pecs, once again showing Shingo’s favoritism for the chest. Weirdo. He brushes his teeth, combs his hair, the gel failing to keep it’s shape anymore, especially after all the activity it saw earlier.

 

What a mess.

 

**9:34 PM. The return to the living room, from a tired salesman.**

 

Takeshi announces he’s going to head to bed, which gets a curt “g’night” from Shingo.

 

He doesn’t take just that, and he leans down to his level to place a kiss on his nose. Shingo scrunches it up, but smiles nonetheless. What an idiot.

 

“Okay, okay, g’night babe. Sleep well.” Shingo shoos him off, and Takeshi chuckles, taking his leave to the bedroom, crawling into the futon and curling up.

 

**9:41 PM.**

 

**Takeshi Nakazato finally sleeps.**

**Author's Note:**

> yes, i absolutely listened to dolly parton once and had to write this for some god forsaken reason. 
> 
> super headcanon heavy on what nakazato does and what hes like at work, etc etc, BUT I LOVE HIM SO MUCH


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